


One Day

by wolfie_slays



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Chronic Pain, Drinking, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 14:31:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16221059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfie_slays/pseuds/wolfie_slays
Summary: Prompt: "It's simple, really. I love you and you loved me."





	One Day

“Tony?”

Tony knew exactly who was stood in the doorway, without needing to turn around to check. He knew that voice anywhere, knew all its subtleties; anger, sadness, joy. The way his name rolled from the other man’s lips with such familiarity was sinful, more like a kick in the gut than any kind of comfort.

So, he didn’t turn around to check, and instead kept his gaze fixed firmly on the sprawling cityscape that was beautifully laid out beyond the full-length windows; the lights, the flashes of colour, the people still hurrying about even at this late hour made the whole place seem alive.

Tony didn’t feel alive, not in the slightest, still cold and stiff and blank, but it was nice to see that the people below him on the sidewalk still found some meaning in a meaningless world.

“Tony, talk to me.”

The voice came again, and Tony inhaled sharply, before whipping round to face those blue eyes that he’d avoided for so long.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Steve,” he snapped, though his voice came out small and broken. “It’s over.”

Steve's eyes widened slightly, hurt by Tony's words. “What, us?”

“Everything!” yelled Tony suddenly, finding his voice in a flash of red anger, shattering the delicate silence. “Everything’s fucking over! Us, me, my sanity! I thought I’d sorted it all out, and now everything’s gone to shit again!”

Steve extended an arm, and although he was a good twenty feet away, Tony flinched. Steve withdrew his arm as though he’d been burnt, a look of panic on his face.

“It’s not over, Tony," Steve whispered, sadness swelling in his voice. "We can fix this, we really can. It’s what we’ve always done, isn’t it?”

Tony chuckled humourlessly, the sound echoing around the large room. It was eerie and uncomfortable, and hung in the air as though it’d never leave.

“Yeah, we always managed to fix everything,” Tony said quietly. “But it’s not ‘we’, any more, is it, Steve? Not since you ran off to find your old beau and tried to fucking kill me.”

“I wasn’t in my right mind, Tony.”

“Yes you fucking were!”

Tony’s arm shot out as he punched the glass in front of him, face red with anger and emotion. The glass stayed firmly in place, and the crack heard came not from the window, but from Tony’s wrist, yet he didn’t even flinch. Steve said nothing, so Tony broke the silence again.

“You leaned over me and I was bleeding, I was hurt, my suit was a pile of mangled metal and it was ripping through my skin, my organs. I looked up at you and I wanted to see something else, something that wasn’t you, but-”. Tony was cut off as he choked on his own words. “Your eyes were the same, they go darker when you know I’m hurt, and yet you kept going. That was you, Steve, no one else.”

Steve bit his lip and had the decency to look down at his shoes, to avert his eyes from Tony’s gaze as he struggled to compose himself. The smaller man ran a hand through his hair, before turning away from Steve and walking over to the bar at the end of the room. He poured a triple measure of bourbon and knocked it back in one go, feeling Steve’s gaze on him as he moved.

“You’re drinking again.”

It was a statement, not a question, and Tony laughed coldly.

“They say I’ll be in pain for the rest of my life,” Tony replied, hand ghosting over his abdomen where the worst of the scars lay. “I won’t take the pain meds, they make me too drowsy, so this is what it’s come to.”

There was a beat of silence as Steve almost stumbled under the weight of what he had done, the things he had put his lover through.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve choked out, finally. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“So am I.”

“I never meant it to be like this, Tony,” muttered Steve. “Can I come in? Please, let me talk to you properly.”

“Sure,” Tony shrugged, not moving from behind the bar. “And if you come anywhere near me, he’ll blast your fucking head off.”

Tony gestured to a suit that was poised in the corner, eyes glowing with a menace that Steve had never seen before. Although, up until recently, he’d never been on the wrong side of one.

Steve walked slowly into the room and collapsed on the sofa nearest to the door, knowing he’d be able to make a quick exit if necessary. No one else knew where he was.

“So talk,” commanded Tony, sipping slowly on another drink.

“I miss you.”

“Wow, good talk.”

“Don’t be like this, Tony,” Steve sighed, shaking his head slightly.

“Don’t be like what? See, the last time you looked at me like that, Steve, you were shouting at me for eating all the tester frosting that we were choosing for out fucking wedding cake. Lemon, didn’t we pick? Six tiers?”

“I can’t… I want it. I want that life back, Tony. I need it back,” Steve whispered.

“That’s all great Steve, really it is, but the situation here is simple; I love you and you loved me, and that’s the way it always was, and the way it’ll always be,” Tony snapped.

“Don’t say that, Jesus fuck Tony, don’t say that.”

“I’ll say whatever I fucking well like. I looked into your eyes as you beat the shit out of me, and I still loved you. You put me through months of surgery and rehab and what’ll be years of chronic pain, and I still fucking love you, you bastard.”

Tony grabbed the edge of the bar for support as tears dripped down his face, his chest tightening uncomfortably. He drew in a shaky breath, wheezing slightly, and screwed his eyes shut, trying to ward away the oncoming panic attack.

“Tony, shit, breathe for fuck’s sake.”

Steve’s voice came distantly through the waves of confusion, and he grit his teeth against the pain that radiated through his body.

“Tony, let me come over there and help you ride this out. I’m not gonna hurt you, I’ll leave as soon as you’re okay, just let me help you.”

Tony took another shuddering breath, and whimpered as his chest twinged in pain, his knuckle joints protesting as he squeezed the edge of the bar harder.

“Power down,” Tony said finally, and Steve was by his side immediately.

Steve was careful to give him space, but the routine was familiar, and Steve was a dab hand at helping Tony come down from a panic attack. He took exaggerated breaths, and soon Tony followed, his breathing evening out slightly, though he fisted his hands in Steve’s shirt in a way that suggested this was a really bad one.

“Hey now, it’s over, you’re safe,” whispered Steve, running his hands through Tony’s hair. “You’re in the tower, the penthouse, your living room, and you’re safe.”

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, though somehow ended up being sat on the floor, Steve fighting to keep from bursting into tears, and Tony grabbing onto him for dear life, occasionally convulsing and letting out cries of pain that tugged at Steve’s heartstrings.

Eventually the convulsions stopped, and Tony looked up from where he’d buried his head in Steve’s shirt, eyes red and wet from crying. His smile was broken, and Steve swallowed the lump in his throat.

“It feels like yesterday when you would’ve kissed me and taken me to bed after a panic attack,” whispered Tony.

“I know,” Steve smiled sadly. “We’ll get there.”

“Will we, Steve?” asked Tony, leaning away from the other man’s embrace. “Can we?”

“One day, baby. One day.”


End file.
